Ancient Books
Today I saw some ancient books,
Five hundred plus years old,
With illustrations brightly hued
And accented in gold.
Calligraphied in perfect print,
They really blew my mind,
Surviving all these years
And waiting there for me to find.
On display within the Cloisters
And protected under glass,
Just a page or two is visible
To visitors who pass.
Yet I think of those who sat and toiled
By candlelight, now gone,
Who’d be shocked that centuries later
All their efforts still live on.
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